


Home

by SandraOnite



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Returning Home, Song fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraOnite/pseuds/SandraOnite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written to the song Home by Daughtry.<br/>Sherlock is able to return to John after finally dismantling Moriarty's web. Things go rather well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

“Goodbye John.” eyes spilling tears, Sherlock threw the phone to the side. You wanted a chance to save John. This is it. You'll only be gone for a few months, a year at most. It's a small price to pay for his life, for Mrs Hudson's life, and Lestrade’s. They'll be okay as long as you aren't. With that as a last thought, Sherlock jumped. “SHERLOCK!”

Waking with a start, Sherlock’s hand flew to his throat. He couldn't breath. Where was the air in this room? He was being suffocated. Stumbling out of bed, he ran to the window to ensure that he was in London. Seeing the familiar city instead of the view from the hospital brought him peace and allowed his breathing to return to a more consistent rate. He wasn't jumping. He was in London. In and out Sherlock, in and out, he told himself.  
On some level, he knew that what he had was post-traumatic stress, but it wasn't important to him. He had survived the jump. The plan had worked. John was safe. In the end, making sure John was okay was all he truly cared about. Mycroft keeps him updated about John every week with reports.  
It's idiotic, Sherlock thinks, his PTSD. It's a waste of time and he doesn't understand why it won't go away. It's been two years since he “died” and he still has nightmares every night. He wasn't even supposed to be gone this long. He was certain at the time, that he wouldn't be missing for more than a year. Apparently he had miscalculated. Moriaty’s reach had extended further than once thought.  
Traveling the world, going undercover as hundreds of different aliases, he broke Moriaty's web piece by piece. The stats were as follows, he almost died six times, he was hospitalized eighteen times, and injured about every time he left what was his safe house. Just getting across boarders was a bother. He had to go unnoticed and under the radar.  
All the places he was able to travel to, they got old. He was sick of them. He did worry about Johns reaction, to his death. Mycroft had told him how hard he'd taken it. Secretly Sherlock found it satisfying that John cared so much.  
Sherlock was finally done running.

Pulling up outside Baker Street in a cab, Sherlock took a deep breath. He hasn't seen John since that day.  
“Goodbye John.” “SHERLOCK!”  
He could hear the scream in his head whenever he shut his eyes.  
Sherlock climbed out of the cab and payed for his ride. John would be happy to see him, right?  
He swiftly climbed the few steps to the door and entered. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breathing was erratic.  
“Nobody could be that clever.” “You could.”  
Opening the door to the living area, it all came rushing back. The cases, the laughter, those moments at three am when John would come down the stairs and tell him to stop playing the violin, it was all here in this room. He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. God it was good to be back.  
“That's a skull.” “Friend of mine.”  
Sherlock choked on a laugh. He was back. He made it.  
John didn't appear to be home currently so sherlock took the time to sit in his chair. It was exactly the same. Nothing had changed here.  
He heard creaking on the steps and braced himself. “Mrs. Hudson I told you, you don't have to clean the flat. I can handle it.” John halted when he saw him sitting there. He didn't seem able to move. Sherlock thought he detected him mouth ‘no’ under his breath.  
“John I” Sherlock slightly stuttered “I don’t know what to say. I didn't think through this far to be honest.” John didn't say anything though. Sherlock thought it would be best to give him time. He stood up from his chair and passed john to enter the kitchen and make tea. Maybe john needs tea? Sherlock doesn't understand what he needs but John always gave him tea on cases to calm him down.  
He let the kettle boil, then poured two cups and dropped in the tea bags. John still hadn't moved when he returned and when he saw him again, his eyes widened. Sherlock had just set the tea down when he felt himself yanked backwards and turned around. Lips were on his and he responded in kind. He wasn't expecting such a warm welcome but he certainly wouldn’t complain. “You were dead. I never thought I'd see you again.” John stated once they had separated. “I'm sorry. I've not always been the best friend to you but I'd like to attempt to. That is, if you'll give me a chance.” He didn't know why John would give him another try after what he'd done to him. He didn't deserve it.  
“Stay. Never leave again.” John hugged him close. None of this had been what he'd been expecting. He thought John would be angry and never forgive him.  
John didn't seem to want to let him go but sherlock though this would be better on the couch so he tried to move. “Don't you dare leave me.” John said through clenched teeth. He gripped him tighter. “I just wanted to go the the couch.” Sherlock smirked slightly. John loosed his grip and pulled him down onto the couch so they could both be comfortable.  
“Take my hand.” “Now people will defidently talk.”  
Home. Finally home.


End file.
